Drunks, Lovers, Sinners, & Saints
by They-Call-Me-Orange
Summary: Paige and Alex. Complications. HIATUS
1. 44 Caliber Love Letter

_Disclaimer: _**Don't own it.**

**Title: **Oh, the story? Why, that's _Drunks, Lovers, Sinners, And Saints_. The chapter well, you big silly, that's named for the song quotes: ".44 Caliber Love Letter"

**Genres: **_General, Angst, Drama, Romance. Hell, I could go on for a while…_

**Rated: '_M'_** -Why? You know why. Drugs, Sex, And Rock'n'Roll. (Though there will be considerably more drugs and sex than Rock'n'Roll) Though at the moment it's mostly for cursing.

**Writing Tools: **_Microsoft Word, of course, Windows Media player, Trident Gum, my MP3 Player, the Internet, and (_every writer's best friend) _plenty of Caffeine._

**Tunes: **_All three Alexisonfire albums _In chronological order: Alexisonfire ('02), Watch Out! ('04) and Crisis ('06)_ The Smashing Pumpkins' _Siamese Dream_ album, "_Remember To Feel Real" _by Armor for Sleep, "_Calling All Cars", "All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues_", and _"Sick Or Sane" _by Senses Fail, oh, and _"Napoleon Solo" _by _At The Drive-In.

**People: **_Me, Myself, and I._

**Author's Note: **This is something I've been playing around with for a very long time. At least the concept is. The title, chapters, and quotes are all by the wonderful Canadian Post-Hardcore quintet Alexisonfire (who are amazing live and awesome song writers). In order to properly enjoy this particular work all the events of Season 6 should be henceforth disregarded. Unless I bring something up intentionally. Aw, you'll get the hang of it. I'm trying a different writing approach this time, smaller chapters, more frequent updates. Here's hoping it actually works.

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"Just Remember

The first step in forgetting

Is destroying all the evidence"

_--- _Alexisonfire "44. Caliber Love Letter"; _Alexisonfire _(self-titled debut)

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"_You're beautiful."_

_Alex turned around and met Paige's warm blue-green eyes. The brunette leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lover's lips, "Mmmm… flattery will get you _everywhere_," she purred. Paige giggled and playfully pushed Alex back onto the bed._

"_Hon, I could call your grandmother a crack-whore skank and it would get me '_everywhere'_."_

_Alex scoffed, tried her best to sound insulted before reversing their positions, "Why, Ms. Michalchuk, _no one _insults my grandmother."_

"_Oh yeah?"_

"_Yeah. Now I'll have to punish you."_

_Paige gave a slightly silly smirk and began to speak-_

Ring.

"What the fuck?" Alex blinked blearily.

Ring.

There were flashing blue lights on the nightstand.

Ring.

"Fuckin' goddamn phone," she slurred and groped for the offending object, limbs heavy with sleep. With a few more mumbled epithets she flipped the phone open and brought it to her ear, "Whoever this is you better have a damn good reason for calling me on my day off at," she glanced at the alarm clock on the end table, "9 o'clock in the fuckin' morning."

She heard someone draw in a shaky breath, "Alex."

"Jay! What the hell are yo-"

"Alex, shut up."

His voice was too flat, too level to offer any comfort. Her pulse jumped.

"What happened?"

He laughed shrilly; it sounded almost like crying, "Lexi, I'm in trouble. God," he sobbed a bit, "God, I screwed up bad, Lex."

The insane urge to hang up and hurl the phone across the room was powerful. If she didn't hear what he had to say than she wouldn't have to worry. Everything would be okay. Her fantasy was shattered by his next words.

"I need your help."

A million thoughts flashed through her mind. Somehow, all of them lead back to the memory of a thirteen-year-old Jay taking a punch from her mom's leech-of-the-week, (John, or Tom, or some other faceless name) after said leech had called her a bitch and Jay defended her honor by making a joke about the size of the man's penis. She knew what she would say this time. It was the same thing she would say every time.

"You've got it. You know you do," she sighed deeply, "Now tell me what the fuck you just got me into."

"Oh, Jesus, Al! Thank you, you don't know how much this-"

"What did you _do_, Jay?"

Silence on the other end, broken only by harsh breathing.

"_Jay-_"

"J-just… meet me at my place."

"When?"

"Soon."

A click signified the end of the conversation.

She let loose a strangled scream, flopping back onto the bed and bringing a pillow over her face.

Jay Hogart would be the death of her.

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"With friends like you

Who needs Subtext?

This is a .44 Caliber Love Letter

Straight from my heart"

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Paige closed the lid on her suitcase. Sara, her dorm mate of three semesters watched placidly from the doorway. She cocked her head and surveyed the stripped-down closet with mild curiosity, "So… how long are you going to be gone, again?"

Paige folded her hands behind her back and thought a moment, "Um… probably until classes start again, so… that'd be about , oh, three months?"

Sara nodded. Paige recognized the red eyes, the vapid smiles, the pauses between words. Sara was stoned out of her mind. The blonde sighed, _it wouldn't be the first time_. Despite her pot-headedness and tendency to get a bit cruel in her quest for gossip Paige and Sara got along okay for dorm mates. The fact that they were never forced into spending too much time together outside of the dorm was a large contributing factor. Still, there were plenty of friendly moments and enough mildly-fond memories to keep them on the better side of acquaintanceship.

Paige snapped the lock on her luggage. Sara blinked. Paige stood up and took one last glance at the pitifully small room (which she had always thought of as more of a large closet - disgrosting) and felt no sadness. Only an unbidden feeling that what she was about to do was somehow _right._ It was almost enough to let her forget about the butterflies in her stomach and the sweat gathering on her palms.

Her bags were uncharacteristically light when she lifted them off her bed. She was packing lightly, a medium-sized duffle bag of clothes and a suitcase of other essentials. She still had clothes in her old closet at home and she planned on indulging the urge to shop (possibly, quite literally, until she dropped) that she'd had to restrain during her time at Banting.

She had spent a week taking down her posters, and cleaning out her closet to make way for Sara's cousin (who's name escaped her at the moment). The girl would be staying with her roomie for the break and Paige had reluctantly offered her room after listening to Sara bemoan her distress for three straight weeks. And because she knew that if she didn't consent Sara would just sneak her cousin into Paige's room and that would mean risking damage to her stuff.

With a sigh she began to walk out of the room. Sara gazed at her serenely before following at a slower pace. The tranquil blue-haired girl yawned briefly and looked almost sad, "Well, I'll see you… whenever."

"Yeah, I guess," a sigh, "Bye, Sara."

"Bye."

She paused with her hand on the door knob and added as an afterthought, "Oh, and Sara?"

A brief pause as the words registered, "Yeah?"

"Don't let anyone have sex in my bed."

A snort that passed as a laugh was all she got in response.

"You included."

More laughter followed her out the door and she was almost certain that she would be replacing her sheets, and probably her mattress, when she returned. Better Safe Than Sorry.

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"Christened by your Bullet

I'm losing patience

Well, I guess…

It's my own fault"

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**End Notes: **_Review, or you can kiss another update goodbye. Yeah, that _IS _a threat._

_-Orange_


	2. Control

_Disclaimer: _**If I owned it, do you think I'd be writing Fanfic?**

**Title: **You can learn a lot about a story by the title. Generally really long ones, ones that totally give away the plot, and ones that come in all capitals are bad titles. You know what this story is called, I've already been through it. But the chapter is _"Control" _named for the quote.

**Genres: **_General, Angst, Drama, Romance. Hell, I could go on for a while…_

**Rated: **Still**_ M_**, folks.

**Writing Tools: **_Microsoft Word, of course, Windows Media player, Trident Gum, my MP3 Player, the Internet, and (_every writer's best friend) _plenty of Caffeine._

**Tunes: **_All three Alexisonfire albums _In chronological order: Alexisonfire ('02), Watch Out! ('04) and Crisis ('06) "Stay on the Ground" _by Armor for Sleep, "_Calling All Cars", "All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues_", and _"Sick Or Sane" _by Senses Fail, oh, and _"Napoleon Solo" _by _At The Drive-In.

**People: **_Me, Myself, and I._

**Author's Note: **This is something I've been wanting to write for _months_ now. I've drawn up several outlines for alternate versions. This one would be the easiest to present with the least amount of back-story (believe it or not). Though there will be _lots_ of back-story. It evolved from four basic ideas.

1. There's tons of stuff about Alex and Jay that we don't know. Until season five Alex didn't really get much screen time, and even in the fifth season it was usually only with Paige or Marco. Jay never got anything without Sean or Spinner. So I figure this is what I can do for them.

2. I've wanted to write a story addressing the issue of drug use and abuse for some time, now. I know they _kind of_ covered it in recent episodes, but I don't think it was very well portrayed. Craig's coke problem was introduced and pretty much wrapped up in two episodes, _one_ if you want to get technical.

3. I love the Mafia. Now, this story will only contain vague references if anything, because the power and prestige of the Mafia in North America has sincerely declined in the last decade or two. Plus that'd be just too unbelievable. Cheesy, even. Plus Alex (the character) isn't Italian. For the purposes of this story if I address her lineage she'll be identified as Puerto Rican. Just 'cuz. And, although I can't bring the Mafia into this story, that doesn't mean I can't dress Alex up like a good ol' 40s Gangster. I've got a thing for Homburg hats, okay?

4. I wanted an excuse to write more Palex. 'Nuff Said.

Read and enjoy.

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"This burden's not a heavy one

But I assure you

It's present"

--- Alexisonfire "Control"; _Watch Out!_

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Jay looked like Hell. When he'd greeted Alex at the door of the shitty apartment he shared with his cousin his swollen eyes had been shifty and uneasy. One of his front teeth had been chipped slightly and cracked right down the middle. It would have to be removed. His lip was swollen and beginning the painful process of healing over. There was a sickly raspberry colored wound on the side of his head, some of it disappearing under his thick mop of brown hair. A butterfly bandage lay across his cheek bone. A long, ugly bruise stretched from his left cheek down to his jaw.

_Christ_, she thought, _and this is only what I can _see.

He said nothing, only stepped back and allowed her into the house. Shutting and locking the door quickly behind her. He wore only faded gray sweat pants and an eggshell colored bandage that had been wrapped diligently around his shoulder and the upper portion of his bicep. A red-purple welt spread across his ribs and stomach and she noted the limp in his walk. Grabbing a pack of ice from the dirty counter that divided the kitchen and the living room he led them to the ancient plaid couch.

Gingerly setting himself down between two protruding springs he dropped the pack of ice down onto his groin and made a sound halfway between relief and pain. He sank down further into the dirty cushions and allowed his head to loll back and his mouth to flop open. Alex lowered herself slowly into the broken recliner to his left and watched him. She felt pity, amusement, anger, and trepidation rise up inside her simultaneously. _Whoever did this is going to fucking _payDimly, the raw animosity of her own thoughts startled her.

Quietly, "Who the fuck did this to you?"

He looked at her, blinking slowly for a moment before sighing and looking down, "Lexi…"

"No, no more 'Lexi' bullshit, you're going to give me straight answers from now on, Jay."

"I-"

"I'm not fucking joking, man. I'll leave right now, I swear I will."

He saw that quiet steel in her eyes. It was the look she got when Lexi went away and Al came out to play. He shuddered slightly. It had been years since anyone had referred to her by her old nickname. Alex Capone, they called her. Al. Homage to the greatest mobster of all time. But after Tommy had… after he…

They'd left that all behind.

And here he was: dragging her back into it.

He felt sick.

"I fucked up."

"Yeah, we've established that."

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers brushed the wound it concealed.

"I-I needed the cash. I never would have done it if I hadn't _really _needed the cash."

A barley audible mumble, "Famous last words…"

"You don't _understand_, Lex. They were putting Gramma's house up!"

Alex fell silent for a moment. She knew Jay's "Gramma". The lady had to be well over 70 by now. Nancy Hogart had fostered their entire little "gang" at her two story house in Quebec that had been new when she and her husband had bought it in 1939. She'd raised eight children and twelve grandchildren in that house. She also knew that Gramma Nan' was the only person in his family that Jay believe truly cared about him. She rubbed her temples, knowing that a migraine was lurking somewhere in the depths of the impending conversation.

She sighed, "Tell me how it happened. And if you lie to me I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll be sucking on my toes 'til retirement."

"I needed the cash. A straight job couldn't shell out the money I needed as quick as I needed it so I…"

"You what?"

"I called Marx."

Rico "Marx" Gutierrez was named for his father, who had once been the head of the Socialist Party in some South American country no one could quite remember. He passed his radical political views to his son, and with them came the nickname. Rico Gutierrez became Ricky "Marx".

"Why, you stupid goddamn good-for-nothing son of a-"

"I know," it was barely above a whisper, "I know…"

The concrete lump that had formed in her throat made speaking difficult, so she remained silent, watching him intently until he squirmed and began to speak again, "I didn't wanna do it, Alex, Lord knows I didn't, but…

"I, um, I called in a favor. He hooked me up with a dealer in Hamilton. Stretch Mercury. You know 'im?"

No, but she had heard the stories, "Tell me you didn't cross Stretch."

"It started out okay! I swear, I didn't know it was gonna go bad!"

"Jay," the warning in her voice made him shiver.

He began to talk faster, "I was doing okay. After like, five months, I had enough to pay for the house."

"Then why didn't you _stop_?" it was practically a screech. He hated himself.

"It's not that easy, Lex. You know that."

She drew in a shuddering breath, "Are you using?"

Silence.

"Jay… tell me you're not using! That's all you have to do. J-just say it and I'll believe you. Just… tell me, Jay, _tell_ _me_."

"Alex-"

"This is bullshit!," she had leapt up from her spot and now began to furiously pace the rug, running her hands through her hair and swearing in every language she knew, "You can't just, just bring me into this! We agreed to _stay out_ of it! You _know_ what happened last time! Tom? Henry? Doesn't that mean _anything_ to you anymore!?!?"

"I had no other choice."

"You did! You always have a choice! Don't give me this 'victim of circumstance' martyr shit!" she stopped pacing and stood; shoulders slumped, expression unreadable, "You could have came to me."

"Oh, and you're just _rolling _in the dough!" he was getting defensive, "What could you have done for me?"

Whispered, "I wouldn't have done anything _for_ you. I would have done it _with _you."

He placed his head in his hands, "I'm _sorry_, Lex."

"Yeah… I am, too."

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"Say that you're in control

Say that you are

I can't think of a time

When you looked less alive"

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"Oh. My. _God_!"

Three, identical, high-pitched shrieks pierced the air with painful sharpness.

"Paige!"

"Marco!"

"Paige!"

"Hazel!"

"PAIGE!!!"

"Marco and Hazel!"

A three-way hug that looked complicated and slightly painful ensued. Dylan stood off the side, bemused.

"Dylan!" he cried. The three friends untangled themselves long enough to stare at him, "What?" he asked, "It's not fair! I never got a 'welcome home' like that. Why is that?"

"Well, hon," began Paige, "It's because they all love me more. I was always the cute one. You were… 'that other Michalchuk kid'."

"Gee, missed you too, Paigey."

She smirked and trotted over to him, jumping up and enveloping in a gigantic hug.

"Whoa!," he swayed backwards dramatically, "Well, at least I don't have to worry about you finding time to eat amidst your studies1"

"You jerk!" he was reprimanded by a merciless swat on the back of the head.

The hockey player just laughed and spun her around before lowering her back to the ground, "C'mon. The sooner we get you home the sooner mom and dad can start fawning over you."

"Jealous."

"Puh-lease."

Paige smiled. She had missed the comfortable teasing. She had missed Marco's fluffy poodle-hair and timeless wisdom. Hazel's blunt honesty and passionate rants. Alex's…

Alex.

She cleared her throat and let her gaze slide to Marco, "So, uh, how are… things?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Things are… good. Um, how are… your things?"

She rolled her eyes, "Shut up Mr. Smartmouth. I've just been away for a while and… well, I guess I've kind of lost touch with a lot of people."

He gave her a knowing look, "Well, Alex is-"

"A skank."

"_Hazel_," the warning tone in his voice made her mouth snap shut with a click.

"As I was saying… Alex went back to Degrassi and upped her marks. She's taking a few classes at that Community College, you know the one by the park? Yeah, well, anyway she'd be a fulltime student, she says, but she's so busy now."

"Doing what?"

"Well, she's got this internship at _D-Funk't-_"

"Defunct?"

"Yeah, that indie mag they give out at concerts and record stores."

"Oh! Um, what does she do there?"

"'Crap on Mondays, Shit on Tuesdays, Busy-work on Wednesdays, and a combination of the three for the rest of the week' her words not mine. But she also got this job at a video store by her place. And sometimes she picks up odd jobs on the weekends."

"Wow, that's a lot of work."

"Yeah, well, her mom had an accident at work last year. Really messed up her back, she hasn't been able to get another job, I mean, she doesn't have a diploma or anything. The only money they got was welfare so Alex has been picking up the slack."

"What about Chad?"

"He's been gone for a while, Paige."

She suddenly felt terrible about being so out-of-the-loop. There was a time when she was considered the leading source of info about Alex. Marco kept talking, "She still meets us for Euchre, though. You _have_ to come! She'll be so excited, I know it. It's really too bad that you guys lost touch."

"Yeah, I know… Hey, Marco, um, has Alex be-"

"We're here!" Dylan's cheerful voice broke their tentative conversation, effectively sending her courage scurrying back into the dark corner where it belonged.

"Good," Paige said, half grateful, half disappointed.

"Paige," Marco began, eyes bright with concern and curiosity.

"Oh my God, Paige! We are _so_ gonna party tonight!"

"I know! Jesus, I'm so glad to be back!"

"Well, that's good to know," Dylan hooked an arm around her neck, "'cause we're not letting you go without a fight!"

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"Maybe today you should try

To look past the mirror and find

(look past the mirror)

That there's something inside

Something more to your life

My words won't heal you now

My words won't heal…"

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**End Notes: **Review… please? Lemme know how I'm doing. If you think it's good then I'll keep on, if you think it's the shittiest thing since High Fidelity then let me know so I can fix it. It's symbiotic, see? I write for you lovelies, you let me know what you think. And tell me, honestly, who gets the shaft on that deal! You lucky little punks.

_-Orange_


	3. Little Girls Pointing and Laughing

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: **the full title is "_Little Girls Pointing and Laughing_" track 10 of the self-titled CD

**Genres: **_General, Angst, Drama, Romance. Hell, I could go on for a while…_

**Rated: _M - _**no change as of yet.

**Writing Tools: **_Microsoft Word, of course, Windows Media player, Trident Gum, my MP3 Player, the Internet, and (_every writer's best friend) _plenty of Caffeine._

**Tunes: **_All three Alexisonfire albums _In chronological order: Alexisonfire ('02), Watch Out! ('04) and Crisis ('06)_ The Smashing Pumpkins' _Siamese Dream_ album, "_Remember To Feel Real" _by Armor for Sleep, "_Calling All Cars", "All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues_", and _"Bonecrusher" _by Senses Fail, oh, and _"Napoleon Solo" _by _At The Drive-In.

**People: **_Me, Myself, and I._

**Author's Note: **You might have noticed that the Tunes didn't change (much) and neither did the Writing tools (or the people) that's because I wrote chapters 1-3 together. Weird, huh? So far, most of the Angst in this story is coming from Alex. Don't worry; Paige will get hers. Here I'd insert evil laughter but that's kind of hard to illustrate through text. And I'll tell you now, I have no clue where this story is going. I haven't planned any of it out. It's kind of like…

There's me, stumbling around really drunk and partially blinded (possibly the result of a bar fight). And I keep crashing into plot bunnies and -hey! Every time I hit one, out falls a chapter or two. Was that helpful at all?

(No bunnies were harmed in the making of this author's note - although the little one bit me)

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"We can't stop now

We've got

To slow down"

---Alexisonfire, "Little Girls Pointing and Laughing"; _Alexisonfire_

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Three hours later found Jay and Alex in no better luck. She was laying back in the armchair, somberly nursing a beer. Jay had finished his story twenty minutes prior and since then silence had consumed the pair. Alex sat, drawing up a mental plan of action, recalling as many names and places she could use to their advantage. Jay watched her, slightly awed, and knew that only two things could result from what he had done. Either he and Alex somehow pulled it off, and after a while, maybe even less than a year, they'd both be out, and clean, and safe again. They would probably end up moving anyway.

The other option was considerably less happy.

He found his mind drifting back to the life he'd had years ago…

"_We could always-"_

"_Got a gun!"_

"_Always-"_

"_Where's my money?"_

"_Always try to-"_

"_Overdosed"_

"_Try to talk-"_

"_You don't _get _it, kid! I _need_ it, Jay. I _need-_"_

"_Talk things out."_

"_I'm going to fucking _kill_ someone!"_

"We'll call."

He was slapped harshly out of his trance and realized that his breathing was labored. He felt a trickle of sweat drip down the back of his neck. Jay shivered, "What?"

She gave him a queer look, "We'll call the others. Get them together. You're out of your head if you think we can do this, just us."

That look of detached calculation in her eyes frightened and assured him at the same time. Alex would make a wonderful, if cruel, soldier.

"There's no other way?"

"Do you have forty thousand dollars just laying around, Jay? It would take us years to rake together that kind of dough. And Mercury would have you facedown in a ditch before we could get the cash together, me right next to you. We won't have Henry, and…" she couldn't quite choke out his name again. The pain in her chest was too strong. She swallowed hard before continuing , "Bernie left a year ago, he's somewhere in the States now. But I think we can get most of the others…"

He cracked a painful smile. One that made his lip throb in pain and his heart clench tightly, "Just like old times, eh?"

There was no mirth in Alex's eyes. She stared at her hands until her gaze went out of focus. Trapped in memories that clawed at her ribcage and burned her eyes. Idly she ran a hand over the small mass of rippled scar tissue on her abdomen. About two inches down and to the left of her right breast. She could feel the damp, winter air. Hear the screams, the impossibly loud hollow sound of the handgun. Taste the blood in her mouth, see it staining her hands as it gushed from her body like some sick fountain some cheap special effect.

Tommy's screams.

"_I'm dying! I'm dying! Oh, God, oh Jesus! Help, help me! Jon, Lola! Help! Alex, Jay! I'm dying, I'm-"_

"Yeah," she forced her eyes open and met his gaze. He could tell she was just as haunted as him, "just like old times."

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"Please just give me back my heart

Well, it's been too long

And I will burn no more"

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It had been a good day. Her mother had cooed and pinched cheeks. Her father had listened patiently, "ooh"ing and "aw"ing at all the appropriate points in the conversation. Hazel had scheduled her for a mani/pedicure the next day ("eleven o'clock sharp! Tina doesn't like late customers.") and a shopping excursion immediately afterwards. Marco had invited her to a Euchre game at the house he and Dylan shared with Ellie ("Bring chips, we've got everything else! Oh, and we play for money, so bring your purse.") Mom had made her favorite meal ("How often do you get lasagna like _this_ at Banting, Paige?") and dad had given her full use of the credit card for the next week ("Just _please_ don't spend too much, okay princess?").

All the while Dylan stood somewhere in the background looking smug and occasionally teasing her.

But now she just felt worn out. _It's been a long day,_ she thought, _it's okay to feel tired._ Still, she was disappointed. Marco had tried to bring Alex up a few more times but Hazel either redirected the conversation or Paige squirmed and changed the subject abruptly. It was official.

Paige Michalchuk was the world's biggest coward.

No, no, _no, "_Ugh. I'm going to take a walk."

"Oh, but honey it's so late. Look, it's already dark out, I don't think you should be-"

"Paige, just make sure you wear a coat and be back before it gets too late."

"But, dear!"

"But nothing. Paige is a big girl, she can take care of herself. She's smart."

"I know, it's just that, you hear stories and-"

"I know, I know. But you can't hold on to her forever. She's all grown up now. Big college girl…"

She could tell her father was dangerously close to getting emotional and pulling out the "Baby Photo" album; which meant leaving as quickly as possible, "Thanks, dad. I'll be back soon, I promise."

She jumped up from the chair and grabbed her jacket off the coat rack by the door, zipping it up as she stepped out into the dark. The chill in the air was just enough to get her moving. She began walking at a brisk rate with no destination in mind. Legs pumping, heart thumping, she let her thoughts drift.

Did Spinner and Darcy ever get back together? If so, how long did _that_ train wreck last? Manny and Craig? Alex probably had a girlfriend. She would be cool, she would have a tattoo and a belly ring. She would make Alex smile and she wouldn't mind getting high every now and then. She would be able to talk cars and well, maybe she would even bake Alex cookies. She would-

"Hey!"

Blinking and spinning quickly she saw a familiar face.

"Spin?"

"Paige! Back from Banting already, I see."

She fidgeted, "Yeah, looks that way. For a few months, anyhow."

"That's great! Come inside, coffee's on the house."

She blinked slowly realizing that she'd made it all the way to the Dot without even realizing it.

"Um… okay."

She followed him into the Dot slowly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was great, wasn't it? She'd wanted to see all her old friends and despite the… whatever, that had happened on the day Alex had dumped her Spinner was still her friend, wasn't he? And besides, it had been years, and they'd reached an understanding. Spinner didn't want to be with her. _And neither does Alex_.

She was startled by her own thoughts, even more by his voice, "So when'd you get back?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, just today, actually."

"Really? How's the Harvard of the North?"

"Oh, you know," she realized that he didn't. That neither did she, "It's tough, but… worth it."

"Yeah," he set the mug down in front of her and she took a deep drink of it. Hot drinks were always her favorite because she enjoyed the sensation of the warm liquid going down her throat, "Well, I-"

A customer attempted flagging him down from a booth in the corner, "Just… one second."

She was ashamed of the relief that set in the moment he left.

_Coward, coward, coward._

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"Tired of all these lies

(I. Want You. To ruin me)

And elsewhere eyes of yours

(Ruin Me)

So I will scream

(I want you to…)

And dream of what's to come

(Ruin me)"

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**End Notes:**Crazy, eh? You know what to do. Oh, and, as of now, I'm not updating until I get at least five reviews each new chapter. If you really want to see more you'll cheat and review twice because I accept anonymous reviews. Am I encouraging you to lie to me? Yes. I just want to up the count, really. I'm a whore like that.

_-Orange_


	4. Jubella

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: "**Jubella"

**Genres: **_General, Angst, Drama, Romance. Hell, I could go on for a while…_

**Rated: _R_** - though I guess this chapter doesn't really live up to that.

**Writing Tools: **_Microsoft Word, of course, Windows Media player, Google Maps, wikipeida, etc._

**Tunes: **_All three Alexisonfire albums _In chronological order: Alexisonfire ('02), Watch Out! ('04) and Crisis ('06)_ eighfourseven's _Silent Raid_ ep, _"Hey"_ by the Pixies and _"This Armistice"_ by the Receiving End of Sirens._

**People: **_All of my pretty, pretty reviewers._

**Author's Note: **Alexisonfire really is a great band. I love them lots. But it's hard to find completely relevent songs all the time (for the inbetween chapters - because there're lots of good ones I've got set aside for upcoming chapters). So, I think it's about time I bring in my secret AOE weapon. City and Colour. It's still Alexisonfire-y, but, not the same. It's Dallas Green's (guitar/vocals) solo project - acoustic stuff. That's fair, right? Not cheating... sorta.

Also, this is pretty much semi-AU. Lots of backstory because it takes place a few years after the end of season 5 (there IS no season 6 - insert obnoxious laugh). So, to help you folks out, I'm going to start a mini-series of oneshots to sort of fill in the blanks. It'll probably be important, to make sure you catch them y'oughta put me on Author Alert. (also I'm looking for title suggestions for the mini-series - if you give me a good one that I can use I'll give ya a name drop under "people" for chapter 5 and, uh... I dunno. I'll think of something)

No pressure...

IF YOU DON'T READ THEM YOU'LL DIE.

Read it. Love it. _Taste it_. But, uh, if you actually _do_ the last one make sure you wipe off the screen. That's just unsanitary.

And folks?

HERE IS YOUR PALEX.

Although it's probably not as much as you want. To get the rest of your Palex fix, y'oughta check out some stuff by my buddy Phyca. If this name is new to you hit yourself over the head with the nearest blunt object. Then go read her stuff - especially "Skittles, or 7 Minutes and 42 Seconds" if you haven't read it yet. Fun stuff.

Read and Enjoy.

(Thanks for putting up with the shameless plugs and super long author's notes)

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"The wall of flames that consumed you

And everything

That was good and…

Not with a bang,

But a whimper"

---Alexisonfire, "Jubella"; _Alexisonfire_

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The air was damp, Alex could feel moisture forming on her lips. They would chap by morning. The quiet crunch of half-frozen gravel beneath her feet was comforting as she walked, hands shoved deep inside the pockets of her "pre-owned" army coat. She hated the pea-green and her name sure as hell wasn't "Witzel" but it was thick and kept most of the cold out…

The park was deserted this time of night. The unusually chilly weather had driven all of the homeless folk into shelters since the cold-snap had set in. Which was all well and good since Alex didn't feel like company at all. She sighed, breath escaping her mouth in a white, vaporescent puff. She would begin the long process of digging through musty phone books and faded photo albums for the numbers of people she hadn't seen in years. People from a life that seemed impossibly far away. She had her memories. But somehow they seemed… unreal. As if they had been lived by someone else.

In a way, they had.

'Rallying the troops', Jay had called it. Try as she might, Alex couldn't force herself to try to lighten up the situation. She couldn't bring humor into what was happening at all. _Goodbye defense mechanism number one_, she thought gloomily, _lets see how many will be gained and lost before this is over._

She trudged over to the rusted old swing-set that had been long forgotten by most children. Kids these days preferred the shiny new playground with the slides and the see-saw; assuming they didn't just stay home with video games and cable TV. Sullenly, the brunette lowered herself onto the swing and began to gain momentum with gentle back and forth sways. When she was a kid she'd _loved_ the swing.

Some of her earliest memories were being dumped off at the park while mom had "special friends" over when Daddy was out of the house. She'd be content for hours on the swing-set, trying to see how high she could get by herself. Fantasizing that _One Day_ she would swing so high the chains would break. And then she would fly. She'd fly all the way to the moon. On the moon, Mommy wouldn't cry at night, and Daddy would smile like he used to. They wouldn't stay out for days at a time. And they would have dinner _every night._ On the moon, she'd be beautiful. No, she'd be a _princess._ Like in the stories Grandpa read to her before he Went Away.

Alex blinked herself out of a trance, shocked to find her cheeks wet. She wiped them hastily, looking around, fierce blush rising in her cheeks, embarrassed. She was somehow simultaneously relieved and terribly lonely. The park was suddenly, _too _empty. Painfully so. But the rough chains were a comfort in her numb hands and she wasn't ready to leave. Not yet. Never mind that she couldn't feel her nose, and that the seclusion was starting to make her muscles tense and her skin tingle, and that she just wanted to be in a warm bed with a book and a mug of something hot. That didn't matter because she wasn't ready to go and she _wouldn't_ go until she was damned ready.

Alex was never forced into anything.

She always had a choice.

Because _she_ was in control of her life. Not Jay. Not her Mother.

She always had a choice.

Always, always, always.

She _chose_ to push herself off the swing and begin walking in the general direction of the dive of an apartment she shared with her mother.

And that's when she saw her.

And her control was once again ripped cruelly from her.

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"What would you do?

Arms spread welcoming

The impending nothing

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing."

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It took almost thirty minutes of awkward conversation and severe discomfort on her part before Paige finally gave the lame excuse that she had to be home or her parents would worry. She thanked every deity she'd ever learned about that it had worked. But in that moment she was rethinking her brilliant plan.

"_It's just that, you hear stories and-"_

_And it's probably not safe to be walking home at 10:52 at night through a deserted park, _she shrugged glumly. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. She drew her cotton hoodie closer to her body. After ten minutes in the cold it seemed almost comically thin. _Note to self: when taking random late-night jogs through hometown, bring thicker coat. And a can of mace._ The eerie silence of the park had her paranoia working overtime.

"It's not safe to be out here."

She jumped and whirled around a scream building in her throat. It died there as she realized who had spoken.

"Alex?"

"In the flesh."

There was a period of brief, mutual silence that followed, each taking in the other's presence for the first time in years. Alex hadn't changed that much, at least not outwardly. Her dark hair was a bit longer, mostly hidden by a black beanie that Paige was momentarily jealous of. An over-sized army coat proclaiming that she was "Witzel" effectively blocked Paige's view of her upper body. Baggy gray cargo pants and scuffed Doc Martens completed her Rebel-Without-A-Cause look.

But there was something different about her. Paige couldn't _see _it. But she _felt _it. Stress practically dripped off the girl. She was struck by concern so strong and abrupt it made her take a step back. A myriad of emotions rose up in her. Fear, joy, confusion, excitement, self-consciousness. But that strange sense of _right_ that she'd felt before she left Banting was back as well. Alex just stood there, mostly emotionless, looking somehow… ominous.

And yet heart-achingly beautiful.

Paige was the first to recover from the initial shock. She stepped forward, on pure instinct, and pulled Alex into a tight embrace. After a brief pause she felt Alex return the gesture. It was a strange feeling. The moment seemed impossibly _tangible._ As if it was being burned into her memory. Branding her. A tattoo on her mind. That moment had _weight._

There seemed to be some message communicated through the doleful way that Alex pulled her closer and dipped her head into Paige's shoulder. Only, Paige couldn't figure out what was being said.

And then it was over.

And the brunette was pulling away gently, hands resting almost casually on Paige's shoulders. Her breath caught in her throat, she saw Alex's lips move but couldn't register the words.

"Pardon?"

Alex smiled a bit, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. In her big brown orbs Paige could see only emotions too strong for names, too complicated to fathom.

"How long have you been back?"

The $64,000 question of the evening.

"Just this afternoon."

Alex nodded, "What the hell are you doing out this late? And by yourself, you might as well be wearing a neon sign that says 'Mug Me'."

Paige blushed, "Yeah, well, what about you?" she nudged her with her shoulder. A cloying fear that she had overstepped some boundary clawed its way up her esophagus. She ignored it, "You're just as much a girl as me."

"Only I can run faster, and I don't carry more than twenty bucks when I go out at night."

Paige remembered the credit card in her pocket.

"What are you doing out this late, Paige?"

There was genuine concern in Alex's voice and for a moment Paige could imagine that she understood a few of the emotions in her cloudy eyes, "I'm on my way home."

"Small world," she muttered and began walking, slowly, "I'll walk you home."

"What?"

"Unless you plan on taking a cab."

"No, no, that's fine. It'd be really… nice."

Alex didn't say anything for a moment, just leveled the blonde with a heavy gaze. Paige shifted uncomfortably.

"I missed you, Lexi."

She hadn't meant to say it out loud. She'd barely come to terms with it in her own mind, she _never_ meant to say it out loud. Not _yet_. Not when she'd just seen her for the first time in _years_. But her mind and her mouth didn't always work together like they should have. Alex just had that effect on her. There were plenty of things Paige never meant to say when Alex was involved.

"_You have no future!"_

"_It meant nothing. _She_ means nothing."_

"I missed you, too," the reply had been so quiet Paige wondered if she'd imagined it.

Alex reached into her coat and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. She lit one with the fire of a matchbook that read _'Casino Strip Club' _with the outline of a naked woman and a pair of dice.

"You smoke?"

Paige knew she shouldn't be so shocked.

Alex just shrugged, "Gonna lecture me?"

Paige ignored her, "That stuff will kill you, y'know."

She gave a low, dry chuckle, and took a deep drag before speaking, "Paige… I was never built for endurance. I figure, why not give mother nature a helping hand?"

The blonde shook her head, "Would you… would you stop if I asked you too?"

"Why?"

"Because I worry about you."

Alex sighed… and snuffed the cigarette.

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"You had such grace

In the End

I wish I could remember

What color your eyes were

But every time I looked at you

My mind went blank"

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**End Notes:**I'm not sure what to think. Review or I'll cry. Or not update. I want seven this time. That's right: Seven.

All this praise is going to my head and making me bolder.

_-Orange_


	5. Counterparts And Number Them

_Disclaimer: _**See previous chapters.**

**Title: **"Counterparts and Number Them"

**Genres: **_General, Angst, Drama, Romance et cetera._

**Rated: '_M'_** - You know why.

**Writing Tools: **_Microsoft Word, of course, Windows Media player, Trident Gum, my MP3 Player, the Internet, and about four Cokes (classic, of course)._

**Tunes: **_Alexisonfire, blah, blah, blah. First album, blah. Listen to 'em_

**People: **_Uname. One of the coolest reviewers in the history of reviews._

**Author's Note: **Consider this thing on hiatus. I'm fresh out of ideas. This is more Palex-y than the other chapters though, so that's something.

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"I lied, too

When I said that I was hard

Because I'm softer than

A thrift store sweater

Twice as worn in"

---Alexisonfire, "Counterparts and Number Them"; _Alexisonfire_

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They had been walking for about five minutes. The silences that filled the gaps in their conversation were only slightly awkward and for that Alex was eternally grateful. She had been shocked to find her ex-girlfriend roaming the city at night. Especially when she should have been buried under thesis statements and sixty page essays at Banting. But, no, here she was, in a thin blue hoodie and jeans. Blonde hair looking like fine silk, limpid orbs of ocean water for eyes, and that cute smile that made Alex's stomach attempt to leap into her chest.

Alex recalled the hug. That was the closest she'd been to Paige since…

Since she'd made the biggest mistake of her life over a year ago and ran away from the best thing to happen to her in years.

Yeah. Sounds about right.

Not that she would ever admit it to Paige. Paige had moved on. She had to have. Probably even had a boyfriend. Alex could see him now. He'd have some obnoxiously snobbish name, Bennett, or Blake, or _Charles_. He would buy her flowers and jewelry and he'd drink lattés. They would talk politics and economics and classic literature. He'd have a trust fund that could support three small countries for six straight years. A sports car, too. And a nice, rich daddy to make sure his college experience was completely comfortable.

She realized, with some shame, that she was jealous of someone that might not even exist.

"So, are you… seeing anyone?" she hoped it sounded as casual as she willed it to be.

Paige looked slightly taken back.

Alex cursed herself.

Paige answered, "No… not at the moment. What about you? What's your love life been like?"

What love life? If drunken one night stands and casual sex was considered a love-life then she'd been fine. Somehow she didn't think Paige wanted to know about that kind of thing. But then there was…

"I, uh, I guess I've been, sorta… playing the field."

"Random hook-ups?"

Alex would have smiled at the blonde's ability to cut through her shit, even after all these years, except that she couldn't bring herself to meet Paige's eyes. _Why is this fucking me up so much? I shouldn't care. No. I _don't_ care. Don't, don't, don't. _She nodded silently and forced herself to look Paige in the eyes. Her expression was mercifully unreadable.

"Really? No serious relationships at all?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, yeah, kinda… I mean, when we were together-" she stopped abruptly; realizing that if they reverted to the 'when we were together' lines would rouse emotions neither of them were ready to deal with, "You just never seemed like that kind of girl, that's all."

Alex kicked a rock, "I… I did have one," she cleared her throat, "relationship."

Paige seemed only mildly surprised, "With who?"

Alex took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "Ellie."

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"So it seems

That when you turned away

You left

A scar"

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"Ellie."

The named slammed into her like a freight train. She felt… betrayed for some reason. The thought of Ellie and Alex sharing the same thing that used to be only for _Paige_ and Alex. She knew it wouldn't hurt half as much if Alex had named someone she didn't know. But for some reason picturing her ex-lover and her friend together made her stomach sick, and her head spin, and her chest ache. But all these feelings were over ridden by the initial shock that came with the admission.

"Ellie… Ellie _Nash_?"

Alex shrugged, and lit another cigarette, "Yeah."

"Wh… What? _When_?"

Alex leaned against the wall of a Liquor Mart and faced her, "Like, seven, eight months ago."

"But I thought Ellie was-"

"Yeah, well, so did the rest of us. She's not straight. Not gay either. Just a bit… crooked."

Paige ran a distressed hand through her hair and contemplated bumming a smoke off Alex. _This is _so_ fucked up, _"Uh… wow. Why did you… How did _that_ happen?"

Now Alex looked uncomfortable. She bit her lip, and began picking at her nails, a nervous habit that Paige was dimly relieved to notice she hadn't lost over the years, "Like it always does," she paused and her large brown eyes darted about as if looking for a way out; no such luck, "We were really good friends, and she was going through a really tough time. She and Jesse broke up. Craig fucked with her head. We started spending more and more time together and one day it just… happened."

"How long were you together?"

"About four months."

Paige tried to wrap her head around this new information. It was like trying to swallow a grapefruit whole, "What was it like?"

Alex glanced at her once, a peculiar expression on her face, and looked away again, "Ellie's a… a great girl. I really liked her. A lot."

"Then why'd you end it?"

"Because she deserved better. I cared about her a lot. But I had feeling for," she paused, blinked twice, and continued, "I had feelings for someone else. Feelings that were stronger than the ones I had for her. It wouldn't have been fair. Not to anyone."

She sighed and appeared to be grappling with some powerful emotion. When she spoke it was more to herself than Paige, "I really wish I could have loved her."

For some reason those words hurt more than anything she could have said in that moment, "So… are you guys still friends?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah… it was mutual. I think she was still kinda hung-up on Craig. We still hang out."

"Oh…" she couldn't get the image of them out of her mind. Ellie kissing Alex. Holding her hand. Smiling at her. Alex smiling back. Had she used her squeaky voice?

"You okay?"

Paige jumped slightly, "Oh. Yeah, yeah I'm fine," she gave a weak smile, "just cold… and tired. I've had a really long day."

"That makes two of us," muttered Alex. She fumbled with the zipper of her thick coat.

"What are you doing?"

Alex shot her a dry look as she shrugged off the jacket, "I'm saving you from frostbite."

"Oh, Alex, no! You'll be cold and-"

"Cold don't bother me," she could read the lie on Alex's face as clear as any book, "Just… just take it."

"I-"

"Please?"

The gesture was too sweet, her eyes too brown, too big for Paige to do anything but consent. She reluctantly accepted the jacket. It smelled like Alex. Vanilla shampoo, and cigarettes, and chemicals, and a faint hint of marijuana. But it also had that other scent that she could only think of as Alex herself. The smell of soft skin, and heavy breath, and dark eyes. It made her think dangerous things. It had to have been the pheromones that made her speak her next words.

"Can we go back to your place, instead?"

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"I was cast away once

But I will be found again

This I promise you

Promise you"

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**End Notes: **And here's where you guys will hate me. Just when it gets interesting I get stuck for ideas and now we're hiatus-ing. Review and show me the true power of your wrath! Maybe even get me hashing this thing out again.

_-Orange_


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